First
by Mickey3
Summary: A series of stories revolving around Charlie O'Neill's "firsts".
1. Word

**Word  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 05/26/2009

Content Warnings: Cuteness alert!

Word Count: 1,233

Author's Notes: Written second, but chronologically, takes place before "Haircut". Thanks to Annie and Cheryl for the beta!

* * *

Waking early, as he usually did, Jack decided to let Sara sleep in for once and retrieved their son from his crib. Charlie, as always, was already awake and was cuddling his favorite stuffed dog, cooing happily and blowing "baby bubbles", as Sara had dubbed them. Knowing the boy like he did, Jack immediately went to the changing table. Gently, he laid Charlie down and removed his sleeper, tossing it to the side. Crinkling up his nose, Jack said, "Ewwww!" As soon as he'd removed the sleeper, the strong odor of poop had hit him.

_Wow, that's a ripe one!_ Pulling the straps aside and the front of the diaper back, Jack groaned. "Gross," he muttered as he used the diaper to clean up as much of the mess as possible. "How come you always rip loose with the huge, gooey, nasty ones when _I_ change you, huh?" he asked. "You never load 'em up like that for Mommy."

A hearty laugh was Charlie's only response.

"Yeah," Jack began as he used several wipes to clean up what he couldn't get with the diaper, "you think this is funny, don't you? A regular riot, huh? Just one big joke?"

Again, Charlie simply laughed.

"You would." Noticing the little splotches of red on his son's rear end, Jack grabbed the tube of ointment and applied a generous amount before grabbing a clean diaper and putting it on. Once his son was clean and in a fresh diaper, he grabbed the blue camouflage-colored "Major Trouble!" onesie from the bottom of the changing table and quickly dressed the baby. That done, he picked his kid up and headed downstairs to get the boy some breakfast. Just like his Daddy, Charlie was almost always hungry.

Upon entering the kitchen, he placed Charlie in his high chair, secured him with the safty straps, attached the tray, and went to the cabinet. Pulling out a box of Charlie's favorite cereal, Cheerios, Jack decided to forgo the bowl and spoon. Charlie refused to use the spoon for its intended purpose anyway and Jack was tired of picking it up off the floor every ten seconds. That was a new game Charlie had "invented" while he'd been away -throwing his spoon on the floor, then waiting for someone to pick it up and give it back to him, just to throw it back down again and laugh his head off. Jack poured a generous amount of cereal directly onto the tray. Charlie dug in instantly, picking up a handful and stuffing them into his mouth, fingers and all.

Jack smiled at Charlie. Charlie was growing so fast, it seemed like he changed everyday. Just over a month ago; the little boy had started crawling. Unfortunately, Jack had been away on a mission and had missed the big event. He'd been very upset when he'd talked to Sara few days after it had happened and she excitedly gave him all the details. Luckily, Sara had the video camera ready -as she always did when Jack was away- and had grabbed it in time to catch the child on tape just as he'd started to push himself onto his hands and knees. It wasn't the same as being there, but it was better than not seeing it at all.

"Easy, Little Man," Jack chuckled as Charlie shoved another little handful of cereal into his mouth. Putting the cereal back in its proper place, Jack grabbed the milk from the refrigerator and filled Charlie's sippy cup. He put the milk away then put the cup on the highchair tray. Charlie gurgled happily as he picked up the small cup by both handles, raised it to his mouth and took a long drink.

Chuckling, Jack ruffled the boy's downy hair and said, "I'm thirsty too." As Charlie munched happily on his breakfast, Jack set about making a pot of coffee. Measuring carefully, he dumped the coffee grounds into the filter. Sara always washed the pot each night then put a clean filter in so it was ready for the next day. Then he added the appropriate amount of water, put on the top and plugged it in. Leaving the pot to percolate, Jack sat at the kitchen table and picked up the morning paper. Turning right to the sports section, he listened to Charlie babble.

"Dddddd."

Jack's head popped up. He looked at Charlie, who was staring back at him. Although he was unsure how, Jack just _knew_ today was going to be a big day. Charlie was going to say his first word! He could feel it. "You're going to talk today, aren't you, Little Man?" Nodding, Jack said, "Yeah, you're going to talk to Dada. You know Dada is only going to be home for two more days then he has to go away for a few months, so you're going to say 'Dada' for me." Pausing, Jack waited for Charlie to try to talk again.

Instead, Charlie merely stared back at Jack for a few seconds before shoving another handful of Cheerios into his mouth.

"Come on, son, say 'Dada'." Jack smiled at the child as he chomped on his cereal. Charlie looked up at Jack, but said nothing as he smacked his hands happily onto his tray -something Sara had informed him when he returned home a few days ago, that Charlie had recently started doing to entertain himself- sending Cheerios flying in every direction. Ignoring the pieces of cereal that landed in his hair, Jack urged his son again. "Say 'Dada'."

Staring intently at his son, Jack waited. Charlie seemed to concentrate. "Ddddd."

"That's it, Charlie, say Dada." Jack turned and gave his wife a mock glare as Sara giggled loudly.

"I told you yesterday, Jack, he's a little young yet. Most kids don't say their first word until around twelve months old or so. Charlie is only seven months old. He'll start talking when he's ready."

Jack being Jack, he stuck out his tongue as he turned to his wife, who was leaning on the doorway between the kitchen and living room, smiling, and then he said, "Not my kid. He wants to talk. I can tell." Proudly, he added, "Besides, our boy is _not_," Jack paused, making quote marks in the air, "just average!" There was another pause then he asked, "And just how long have you been standing there, hmmm?"

"Long enough," Sara replied, still smiling.

Jack stuck his tongue out again then turned his attention back to his son. He heard Sara's soft laugh and smiled. "Come on, kiddo. Say Dada! Daaadaaa."

"Dddd. . . . Aaaaa!" Charlie exclaimed as he slammed his hands onto his tray again. More Cheerios went flying.

Jack paid no attention to Sara as she muttered incoherently and cleared the remaining cereal from the child's tray. He half watched her as she went and dumped the handful of cereal into the garbage then went to the closet, pulled out the broom and dustpan and started sweeping up the mess their son had made all over the floor.

"Come on, Little Man, you're getting there. Say Dada."

"Ddddd . . ."Charlie gave a frustrated sigh. Just when Jack was sure the boy had given up, Charlie smiled and blurted out, "Dog!"

Stunned, Jack stared at his little boy. Then beaming, he turned to Sara and said, "See, told ya! The kid's a genius!"

_THE END_


	2. Steps

**Steps**  
** By Mickey**

Status: Completed 9/16/2010

Archive Permission: Ask first.

Word Count: 1212

Author's Notes: Written third, this story, chronologically comes after Word, and before Haircut. Thanks to Annie for the beta.

* * *

In a distinctly unofficer-like manner, Lieutenant Colonel Frank Cromwell yelled, "Jack! Getcher butt out here. You've got mail, buddy." Then he moved quickly to the side as his best friend and Special Ops team mate came barreling through the door, nearly knocking an already frazzled looking secretary over.

In a way only Jack could manage, he smiled that thousand kilowatt smile of his at the young corporal as he broke her fall and saved her stack of paperwork from scattering. And like just about every other woman -the young and the old alike- on the base, she fell for that O'Neill charm and gave him a shy smile in return. "It's okay, sir."

_"Sorry, kid, he's taken,"_ Frank thought, chuckling to himself. Then his friend's demanding voice and outstretched hands snapped him from his thoughts.

"Well," Jack said expectantly, "hand it over."

His hands, Frank noted with amusement, made the kind of gimme motion a young child did when they wanted something badly. He considered teasing Jack with the package, but changed his mind and, pulling it from behind his back, handed it over.

Payback, O'Neill style, was a _bitch_ and to be avoided at all costs.

Besides, he knew exactly what was in the package and how much it meant to his friend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack smiled at the smallish, rectangular package in his hands. _It's about damn time! Mail here's slower than the Pony Express._ Wasting no more time, he ripped the package open, slid the tape out and put it into the VCR. Grabbing a soda from the small fridge the TV sat on, he flopped -boots and all- on to the bed. Picking up the remote from the end table, he opened the can and took a long drink, downing nearly half of it in one gulp.

Sliding up a little, he fidgeted around until he was in a comfortable position. Downing the last of his Coke, he hit the play button on the remote. He crushed the empty can and chucked it across the room to the half full garbage can. _Three pointer at the buzzer_ he thought as the static on the screen suddenly changed and the round face of his little boy came into focus on the screen. He'd been waiting _weeks_ for this tape. Ever since he'd been able to call Sara over two weeks ago and she'd told them about Charlie's latest achievement.

His heart ached as he heard Sara's melodic voice come from the small TV set.

"Say hi to Daddy, Charlie. Wave to Daddy."

One hand firmly gripping the coffee table, Charlie lifted one chubby little hand and waved at the camera. "Da," the nine month old exclaimed. "Dada!"

The camera wobbled and Jack watched as the room on the screen seemed to spin and Sara's face came into view. The time stamp on the screen showed the video was recorded about five weeks after he'd left home. Just five weeks after Charlie had said his first word.

"It seems like forever since we've seen you. Charlie misses you so much and so do I. I play that tape you made for us every day. As soon as your face appears, he crawls over to the TV, puts his hand on the screen and says, "Dada". He cried yesterday, when the recording ended and you faded from the screen. His little butt plopped to the floor and he said 'Dada no 'ome,' and he cried. It broke my heart. But don't worry," she added quickly, a genuine smile replacing the small, sad one she'd been wearing. "He's usually okay. Although, that tape may not last much longer -hint, hint- if he keeps making me rewind it twenty times a day! Every time you make that stupid face he laughs his butt off. He is _so_ your son!"

Jack paused the tape and stared at his wife's smiling face, burning that image into his mind. God, he missed them! Hitting play again, watched as the camera became shaky again and he got a weird, sorta twisted view of his living room. Charlie, apparently deciding that his daddy must be in the camera, was using the table to support himself as he walked towards his mother. When he got to the end, the boy froze, indecision clear on his face. But Charlie O'Neill was as fearless, and determined as his Daddy. Jack watched with pride as Charlie took his first wobbly steps, completely unaided. He went only three or four feet before losing his balance and landing on his butt with a soft thump, but there was no mistaking the pride on his kid's face.

And Jack was equally as proud of his little man as the boy obviously was of himself. Amazed, Jack watched as Charlie pushed himself back into a standing position, teetered a little, and then took several more steps as his mother cheered him on, before falling again. His prize so close -the boy was only a few feet from Sara now- Charlie got shakily to his feet again and toddled the last few steps before coming to a halt mere inches from the camera.

Unable to hold it back, Jack laughed loudly as Charlie stuck his face right up to the camera and he got a much closer look than he really wanted of the inside of his kid's right nostril. "Dadadada!" Jack heard his son yell as he tried to grab the camera. Luckily, Sara was too fast for the child and pulled it away from him.

The room did the weird spinning thing again, and Jack found himself staring into the eyes of his beautiful wife. "Did you see that, Jack! He did it. He really did it all by himself! I'm so glad I had the camera ready. I just wanted to get some video of him trying to hug the TV -he just looked so darn cute! I never expected him to try to walk all unaided. Well, I'd love to make this longer, but it's time for Charlie's doctor's appointment. He's getting so big! I'll make another video as soon as I can and send it to you. We love you, honey. Come home soon." The camera started to swing away then zipped back towards her. "Oh, and tell Frank we haven't forgotten him either!" Then, obviously knowing he would eventually show the tape to Frank, she addressed him directly, "We miss you too, Frank. Charlie just hasn't worked out how to say your name yet. Instead of Uncle Frank, it comes out more like Ug 'ank!"

Before the screen went back to the fuzzy static indicating the end of the recording, Jack heard a little voice holler, "Yuv, Dada."

"Love you too, little man," he whispered to the static-filled screen. "Both of you."

Picking up the remote again, he hit the stop button then rewound the tape. When it clicked and the numbers on the display stopped, he hit play again. Charlie wouldn't be the only one wearing out a tape. Of that, Jack was positive.

Eventually, Jack would let Frank watch the tape with him. Knowing his friend loved his godson almost as much as Jack loved the boy, he wouldn't deny him seeing it. For now, though, this moment was his alone to cherish.

TBC


	3. Tooth

**Tooth **  
**By Mickey**

Status: Completed 9/28/2010

Word Count: 1212

Author's Notes: Thanks to Annie for the beta!

* * *

Jack cringed as the nearly glass shattering level scream reverberated through the house. Charlie was teething, he cut his first tooth early in the week, and the eleven month old was not a happy camper. Jumping from the recliner, he scrambled for the bathroom and desperately searched for the Baby Orajel Sara had purchased a few days before. This was one phase he'd not been looking forward to and prayed it passed quickly for his little guy. Not just because he felt bad about the pain his son was in, but for the sake of his own ears. His kid had one hell of a set of lungs on him!

Looking at the package as he walked to his son's room, Jack muttered a curse. "Crap!" According to the instruction the stuff could only be applied every four hours and he'd just put some on not even an hour ago. _Time for plan B_. Pocketing the medicine, he stopped at Charlie's door. Pushing the bedroom door open he saw his boy standing in his crib, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

Jack shushed him softly as he approached the crib and whispered, "You're going to wake up Mommy." Sara, who still wasn't feeling well, was asleep in their bedroom down the hall. Jack prayed their baby boy's screams hadn't woken her.

Two months earlier than planned for once, Jack had arrived home two days ago to a screaming, cranky, and teething kid and a sick and equally as cranky wife. Not exactly the best terms to come home under. Still, as much as it sucked, he was glad he was there to take of his wife and their son so she could get some much deserved rest and get well. Especially since Sara's father was out of town for the next several weeks.

While Charlie seemed to hit all of his developmental milestones early, this was one he was a little late on. Sara had explained to him -as the doctor had to her- that it was nothing to be concerned about. Most babies started teething around seven months, but all babies were different. It was not unheard of for a baby to not cut his or her first tooth until they were twelve months old and sometimes even older. Of all of Charlie's firsts, this was the one Jack would not have minded missing in the least.

Immediately upon seeing his father, the boy reached for him. When he reached his son's bed, Jack leaned over and picked the crying child up. Rubbing his back, he whispered, "Don't cry, little man, Daddy's here. I know it hurts. I'll get you something to help make you feel better." Charlie's crying eased a bit, but didn't stop. As they walked down the hallway, he leaned his head on his father's shoulder and shoved his thumb into his mouth.

"'Owie," Charlie whimpered around his thumb.

"I know, buddy. I know it hurts." Jack rubbed his back soothingly.

When they reached the kitchen, Jack deposited Charlie into his high chair. "Just give Daddy one minute, buddy." Charlie looked up at him with round, tear filled eyes. Turning, Jack went to the fridge and pulled out the bright blue puppy shaped teether that seemed to be Charlie's favorite. Kicking the freezer door shut, he went back to Charlie and handed him the teether. "Here ya go, buddy. Chew on this. It'll make you feel better."

Charlie reached out and grabbed the ring then immediately dropped it and began to howl again.

Confused, Jack asked, "What's the matter, buddy?"

To busy crying, Charlie said nothing. Suddenly, Jack realized what had happened. "It's too cold, isn't it?" he stated. He went to a drawer by the sink, pulled out a clean dish rag and went back to his son. Picking up the teether, he wrapped the dish rag around the bottom of it then handed it back to his son. "Here ya go, buddy, try that."

Again Charlie reached out and grabbed the offered teether. This time he didn't drop it and shoved nearly half of it into his mouth at once. Happily, he chewed on the puppy. Sighing with relief, Jack fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. The whole situation just sucked. His time with his little boy was limited and he wanted to see his happy, gurgling baby, not a miserable, crying child. If there was one thing he hated most in the world -other than being apart from his wife and son- it was seeing his baby cry. Just knowing that his kid was upset or in pain and that there was little to nothing he could do about it ripped his heart out.

Sara had assured him that the phase didn't last long. Usually. He just prayed it would end soon. Like, before the Air Force -or General West, to be specific- got it into their heads to send his team on yet another mission would be good. Sometimes he swore that man sent his team specifically on so many missions just to keep him away from his family. Early on, he'd gotten the distinct impression that West hadn't liked him much and that the only reason Jack was still under his command was that he was so damn good at what he did. That, and Frank insisted on it. Every member of his team had taken a week's leave then was on stand down for the time being, but that didn't mean much. He could be called away without a moment's notice. Once his leave was up, he'd been asked to take over as the combatives instructor until a suitable permanent replacement could be found.

A loud clatter disrupted his brooding and he looked up to see Charlie, gums apparently sufficiently numbed, banging the puppy teether against the tray of his high chair and laughing happily.

Catching his father's eyes, Charlie stated the obvious. "'mer 'mer, Dada!"

"Yeah, I see that. And hear it." Standing, Jack took the makeshift hammer away, scooped the dishrag off the floor, and tossed them both into the sink. "All right, now that your gums aren't bothering you anymore it's back to bed with you, little man." Loosening the high chair tray he picked Charlie up. Not wanting to risk waking Sara if Charlie started crying again, he decided to put him in the playpen they kept in the living room instead. He could nap there as well as he did in his crib. Had done so on several occasions.

"There ya go," Jack said as he kissed Charlie's forehead then laid him in the playpen. "Sleep tight, son." _And sleep for more than thirty minutes, so I can get some work done_ he prayed as he made his way to his office. He might be on leave for the next five more days, but that didn't mean he didn't have paperwork to catch up on. Ahh, paperwork -even paperwork that wasn't classified and could be done at home- was his absolute _least_ favorite part of being an officer. A small part of him longed for the days when he was just a lowly Airman and didn't have to worry as much about such things. Grudgingly, he sat at his desk and pulled a folder towards him.

As if on cue, just twenty minutes after Jack had laid him back down, Charlie began crying again. Sighing, Jack shoved the mostly untouched paperwork back into the folder and pushed it aside, stood and stretched, then went and retrieved his screaming kid. Yup, this was one phase he was _so_ looking forward to being over. As Charlie let go with a high pitched scream right in his ear, he thought that maybe, just maybe, that paperwork wasn't so bad after all.

_TBC_


	4. Haircut

**Haircut  
By Mickey  
**

Status: Completed 3/17/2009

Season: Pre-series

Categories: Challenge, Fluff, Humor, Series

Pairings: Jack/Sara

Content Level: G

Archive Permission: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

Word Count: 1631

Author's Notes: Written for the stargatekiddrabbles list's March 7th challenge " Write about your little character's haircut." This is part of what will become a series (yes, yet another series!) about Charlie's firsts. Although this story was written first, chronologically it will not be the first in the series. Many thanks to Lisa and Annie for the beta!!

* * *

"Come on, kid, let's go get our ears lowered," Jack said as he picked up his eighteen month-old son.

The boy just looked at him quizzically.

Jack laughed at the look on his boy's face. "A hair cut, little man, we both need a haircut," he clarified, running his fingers through the boy's long dirty-blond locks. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but Jack thought his kid looked kinda cute with long hair. After all, being one of those people who firmly believed that boys did NOT have long hair, it wouldn't do to let people know he thought his kid pulled the look off pretty damn well. It surprised him, in a way, that Charlie's hair was so long. After all, he'd seen other kids his son's age, even girls, that still had hardly any hair. Then again, the kid had been born with a _very_ full head of hair, so he guessed he shouldn't really be too surprised.

"Air tut?" the boy repeated.

Jack ruffled his son's hair. "That's right, kiddo, hair cut."

Grabbing the nearby diaper bag, Jack checked it quickly. Knowing that one pull-up would not be enough, he set Charlie back down into his high chair.

"Up, Dada," the boy said, large brown eyes pleading with him.

"In a minute buddy. Mommy hasn't had a chance to check your bag since the last time we went out and we need to restock it. Okay?"

Charlie seemed to consider his father's words carefully then finally nodded.

Jack chuckled at the serious look on his little boy's face then went about his task. Six pull-ups (and he was soooo happy the kid was starting potty training), a travel pack of wipes, two sippie cups and a few snacks later, the bag was sufficiently stocked. Almost as an after-thought, he ran upstairs to Charlie's room and grabbed his son's favorite little stuffed dog then ran back downstairs. Throwing the cherished toy into the diaper bag, he zippered it up and turned towards his son.

Charlie was sitting quietly, watching his father. He smiled when Jack looked at him and raised his arms up high, his little fingers opening and closing. "Up, Dada."

When Jack didn't move immediately, Charlie demanded, "Up, up, up!"

"Okay." Jack laughed as he picked his son up, "alright. Ya know, little man, for one so small you can be pretty dang demanding sometimes," he said as he tickled his son and the boy laughed loudly. That was probably the thing he loved most about Charlie, the kid had a great laugh and a killer smile.

Sara would be royally ticked, but she'd get over it. Really, it was time, Jack decided. The kid had more hair than half of the girls in his daycare class! He wasn't sure why, but every time he'd mentioned getting Charlie's hair cut for the past two months, she'd insisted that they wait until he was two. He just didn't get why that was the magic number. What was the big deal? He made a mental note to ask the barber to save some of the hair. Knowing she'd have something to put into his baby book should appease her. He also decided he'd better take some pictures too and grabbed the camera off the counter.

Reaching down he picked up his kid, grabbed the diaper bag and made his way out to the car. Tossing the diaper bag on the backseat, he settled Charlie into his car seat the climbed into the front. As he adjusted the seat and mirrors, he really wished he had his truck. Sara was right though; Charlie was still too young for the type of car seat that would be okay in the front seat of a truck.

Less than twenty minutes later, Jack pulled into the parking lot for Benny's, the only _real_ barbershop around for more than seventy miles. He grabbed the diaper bag then unbuckled Charlie and picked him up.

"'Alk," Charlie said as Jack started to walk towards the shop.

"Yeah, little man, we're walking."

"No, no cawwy. 'Alk," Charlie stated as he began to wiggle.

Chuckling, Jack said, "Okay, ya little wiggle worm, I get it. Stop that before you make me drop ya."

Charlie stopped wiggling and Jack set him down on his feet then grabbed his hand before the kid could take off. Hand in hand, they walked into the barbershop. Jack was relieved to see that there was no one else there. Patience was not a virtue his hyper-active son generally possessed.

As always, Benny, the storeowner, greeted him enthusiastically.

"Jack! Good to see you again." Seeing Charlie, who was trying to remove his hand from his father's grip, Benny knelt next to the boy. "And this must be Charlie!" he exclaimed as he reached out and tickled the boy.

Jack laughed as Charlie giggled. " Hiya, Benny. Yup, this is my kid." He looked at his son and said, "Say hi to Benny, son."

Charlie smiled as he said, "Hi! Me get 'air tut!"

"Wow. This is your first hair cut, huh, buddy?" Benny asked, obviously noting the length of the boy's hair and knowing Jack would not take his son anywhere else.

"Yes!" the child replied.

"The usual for me." He considered telling Benny to give Charlie a crew cut too then reconsidered. Sara would be mad enough about the haircut as it was; he figured he'd better at least leave enough for her to brush. "Just a regular cut for Charlie."

Jack tossed the diaper bag onto one of the chairs by the window then bent down and picked up his son. "Okay, kiddo, which chair do you want, the car or the boat?" he asked as he pointed to the two kiddie chairs.

Jack smiled as Charlie tapped his finger on his chin, looking like he was making the most important decision of his young life as he glanced back and forth between the two chairs. Damn, the kid was just too cute!

"Boat," Charlie finally decided as he pointed to the boat chair.

"Okie dokie, buddy." Jack put his son in the chair and strapped him in then sat in the adult chair next to him.

Benny cut Jack's hair first and was done in just a few minutes. Once he was done, Jack stood and walked over to the diaper back as Benny went to his son. He opened the bag and took out Charlie's stuffed dog. Knowing the first hair cut could be scary for a small child, especially one as young as his son, Jack guessed the boy might want his beloved toy.

He was surprised to see that Charlie looked more fascinated than frightened as Benny set the scissors on the table in front of his boy. Jack laughed as Charlie giggled loudly and scrunched up his shoulders when Benny used a small spray bottle to spritz water onto his boy's hair. When his hair was wet enough, Benny put the bottle down and picked up a comb. When he got to the nape of the boy's neck, Charlie laughed and scrunched up his shoulders again.

"Tiggles!"

Jack laughed with him. "Did that tickle?"

Charlie nodded, "Uh huh. Tiggled!"

"Sorry 'bout that, buddy," Benny began, "but you have to sit still, okay?"

"O'tay," Charlie promised with a nod, giving the barber another big smile.

True to his word, Charlie stayed still -or at least as still as any eighteen month-old boy could sit- until the barber had finished. Jack made sure to take a lot of pictures.

Jack watched as Benny finished brushing his kid's hair then turned the chair around and took a step back. "Well, Jack," he asked, "What do you think?"

"Looks great, Benny, thanks," Jack replied as he pulled out his wallet. "How much?" he asked. He knew how much his cut cost, but not how much it would be for Charlie's.

"The usual, eight bucks," the barber replied.

"Yeah, that'll cover mine, but what about my kid's?"

"On the house." Holding up a hand to forestall Jack's argument, he added, "I've never seen a kid sit and behave that well, especially during their first haircut. It was my pleasure."

"Thanks, Benny, see ya in a few weeks."

Jack paid Benny then picked up the diaper bag and took Charlie's hand into his own. "Say goodbye, son."

"Bye, bye!" Charlie waved.

They had just reached the door when Benny called out for them to wait. Jack and Charlie turned to see the other man approaching them. He knelt next to Charlie and extended his hand, holding out a lollypop to the child.

Charlie accepted it with a big smile and said, "Tank oou!"

"You're welcome."

As they walked out to the car, Jack asked, "You hungry, kiddo?"

"Yes! Hungwy, Dada."

Jack got his son situated in the car then headed towards he closest restaurant. Father and son enjoyed a laughter-filled lunch then headed for home.

Seeing his truck in the driveway as he backed in, he realized Sara was home.

A little early.

Dang.

He put the car in park and turned it off then retrieved Charlie and the diaper bag from the back seat. Once he'd released the restraints, he set Charlie on the ground.

"I show Mama!" Charlie said happily as he ran for the front door. He reached the door before Jack and yelled impatiently, "Open, open."

Laughing and shaking his head at his son's antics, Jack did as Charlie asked. Charlie ran into the house ahead of Jack. "Mama, Mama," he called out as he ran. "Me and Dada gotted 'air tuts!"

Jack smiled at his son's enthusiasm.

The grin faded and he cringed as his wife obviously saw their little boy's new hairstyle and hollered, "JAAACK!"

_THE END_


	5. Cuss Word

**Cuss Word**  
**by Mickey**

E-mail: jack_fan2004

Status: Completed 10/22/2012

Warnings: Minor Language

Word Count: 962

Author's Notes: This little fic was partly inspired by my great-nephew. One of his first word's (besides mommy and daddy) was thit! Oy vey! I actually managed to write this in less than two hours! Yea!

* * *

Jack smiled as he watched his little boy playing with the wooden blocks he and Sara had bought Charlie a few days ago. Sara wanted to get him a set because they were a "learning toy", each side having a letter of the alphabet, a picture of an animal or object whose name started with one of the letters, or a number. Jack had agreed because he'd loved playing with blocks as a kid and he was sure his kid would love them too. He'd then added a large, one hundred piece set of colored blocks that came in a variety of shapes and sizes because, really, twelve blocks just weren't enough. Besides, he'd reasoned when Sara started to object, they were learning toys too. They taught colors and shapes, he'd quickly pointed out. Unable, or unwilling to argue with her husband's logic, Sara had smiled, relented and nodded.

He'd been right. Charlie loved his new toys.

From the moment Jack had opened the packages and dumped the brightly colored blocks onto the ground, Charlie had been delighted. They were practically the only toy he'd played with in the past few days. At first he'd picked up each block, looking it over carefully before setting it down and picking up the next one. When he recognized what one of the pictures was, the toddler would laugh and point at it as he held it up for mommy and daddy to see. Then he'd put them in a line or make a circle or stack them two or three high, or make various other configurations that made sense only to his young mind.

Yesterday, Jack had sat with Charlie for nearly an hour teaching the boy how to stack them up to make towers and buildings. Thrilled, Charlie had happily played by himself for the following hour, giving Jack some much needed quiet time to work on the long "honey do" list Sara had given him a few days prior.

Now, three days later, Charlie showed no signs that he was tiring of playing with his blocks.

Jack had been working on replacing the hinges on the spare bedroom door, and had just gotten the first one up when he heard a muted, "Thit!" coming from the living room. Not wanting to believe what he'd heard, Jack set his screwdriver on the dresser and put the remaining two hinges beside it.

Entering the living room, Jack refrained from laughing at the look on his little boy's face as the child scowled at the pile of blocks that, apparently, had been a tower or building a few seconds earlier.

Looking at the boy, Jack got his son's attention by, as calmly and with as straight a face as he could muster, saying his name, "Charlie."

When Charlie looked up, Jack asked, "What did you just say?"

He prayed Charlie had said sit. After all, the boy was having trouble pronouncing the "s" sound; it was very possible he'd just said sit. _Riiiiiight, wishful thinking, Jack!_

"Thit," Charlie replied matter-of-factly.

"Oy," Jack muttered.

"Why did you say that, son?"

Frowning, Charlie answered, "Bwocks go boom." Then he crossed his arms and pouted as he added, "Big, big…," Charlie struggled with the word he was looking for a moment before continuing, "billing go boom."

"You made a big building and it fell down?" Jack clarified.

"Yeth," Charlie exclaimed waiving emphatically at his crumpled creation as he jumped to his feet.

Jack knelt down in front of his son and said, "I know you are upset that your tower fell, but that is not a nice word."

"Daddy thay thit," Charlie replied as he looked up at Jack in utter confusion.

Mentally chastising himself, Jack placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "That's right buddy, sometimes Daddy says that word, but it is a bad word for little boys to say. Mommy would not be happy at all if she heard you say that." _Actually_, he thought, _she'd blame Daddy for you saying it and skin me alive!_ Especially since, nearly a month later, Sara was still mad at him about the whole haircut deal, even though she did admit that his new do looked "really adorable". She'd having him singing soprano if she came home from the store and heard that word coming out of their nineteen month old child's mouth. "And I don't want to hear you say it anymore, okay? It's a naughty word."

Obviously still confused, Charlie replied, "Daddy thay thit _lots_."

_Oiy! I've really got to start watching what I say around this kid! Even when I think he's out of earshot_.

To his son, Jack replied, "You're right, little man, Daddy says that word too much. That's beside the point though. If you say it again, Daddy will have to put you in time-out."

"Daddy tie-out too?"

_Damn! _Sidestepping the question all together, Jack told him, "Just don't say it again, okay?"

Still looking baffled, Charlie shrugged and said, "Otay." Then, as if their conversation hadn't happened, he plopped back down and went back to his blocks.

Sighing, Jack glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon. Sara would be home soon and she'd expect the munchkin to be feed. She had Charlie on a pretty strict schedule when it came to meals, naps and bedtime, and Jack had quickly discovered that deviating from that schedule by more than a few minutes was generally a bad idea. He left Charlie to his blocks and went into the kitchen to start lunch.

Five minutes later, Jack heard the front door open and shut. He heard Sara call out, "Honey, I'm home," as she entered.

Then he heard the soft thudding of a tumbling block tower and a little voice exclaiming, "Thit!"

"SHIT!"

_TBC_


End file.
